


start of something new

by guardianoffun



Series: it was a pretty good bad idea (wasn't it though?) [4]
Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Casual Sex, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 18:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30126675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guardianoffun/pseuds/guardianoffun
Summary: Jakes does Thursday a solid whilst he's still recovering from the bullet to the lung, and goes to investigate Morse's flat. He doesn't find Morse, but a very gorgeous, pissed-off ex-girlfriend.
Relationships: Peter Jakes/Monica Hicks
Series: it was a pretty good bad idea (wasn't it though?) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2217120
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	start of something new

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iloveyoudie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iloveyoudie/gifts).



> i had a lot of fun with this one and think it's not a bad ship at all lol, there very well may be a sequel to this at some point?
> 
> to fit with canon, i know monica had morse's number but we'll pretend he came back later for smth and dropped it off to her?

Jakes jammed the key that Thursday had pressed into his hand last night, into the door. Almost well enough to walk the length of the hall without doubling over, Thursday was doing better than he had in recent months. Still, he was at home for the next few weeks at least, and Mrs. Thursday had banned him from lifting anything heavier than a fork.

Jakes had just stopped by to check in, taken around a bouquet for Mrs. Thursday and smuggled in half a sweetshop for his guv’, who was on a strict diet from the doc. 

“You seen Morse?” he asked around a caramel, once the small talk had petered out. Jakes shrugged and crushed his finished smoke in the ashtray on the table. 

“Not at all,” he cracked his knuckles. “Thought he might try Strange at least, but nothing.” 

Nobody had managed to get a hold of him at all, and Jakes and Strange who had both thought to turn up the day he was released, arrived to be told he’d been released half an hour early. Since then the slippery bastard had been impossible to track down. Jakes couldn’t bring himself to care all that much, he could understand the urge to vanish after what he’d been through. But some people thought more of Morse than he did.

Thursday had passed over the key, lips pulled tight in worry. “Would you mind?” Where he’d got a key to Morse’s place, Jakes wasn’t going to ask, but if it calmed Thursday’s mind, he’d take it. He wasn’t sure how much he’d learn, but he wound up pushing open the door to Morse’s rooms only two days later. 

It was a state, not that he expected much else from a man who left tea stains and ink splatters on reports left, right and centre. There was dust too, thick layers of it - but a few clean spots showed Morse had been through at leastonce recently. Probably to pack a bag, if the pile of clothes and open wardrobe door were anything to go by. There was an empty spot where Jakes assumed a record player and pile of vinyls used to live, and a few conspicuous empty slots on the shelves. Otherwise, the place looked untouched. 

Jakes was just flicking through a notebook he’d found on Morse’s entrance stand, when the door he’d left ajar swung open with sudden force.

“Morse, if that’s you I’m going to-” 

A pair of heated brown eyes were laid upon him, fully of fury until the woman they were attached to realised he wasn’t Morse, and she stopped short. “Oh, sorry.” She said abruptly. Jakes watched her calm, her hands unclench and lips smooth back into a smile. “Thought you were someone else…”   
She was a nurse, at least he assumed from the uniform. His eyes did a quick glance of her, and wondered what Morse had done to piss off such a stunner. Her hair was cut into a clean, neat bob, her cap carefully pinned down, her cheeks dimpled as she smiled, and her uniform did wonders for her figure. Jakes realised he’d been silent a moment too long.

Her eyes narrowed. “Wait, you’re not-”

“No, no!” Jakes realised how it must look and scrambled to pull his warrant card out. “I’m a police officer, see. Work with Morse.” 

The nurse blinked. “Oh. You’ve seen him then?” 

Jakes snorted. “I was hoping you might’ve by the way you came in, he’s been AWOL since…” He stuck out a hand. 

“DS Peter Jakes,’ he said as she took it. Her hands were well cared for but strong, used to the precise work she did. 

“Monica Hicks,” she said, bobbing her head slightly. “I ah - Morse and I were....” 

Jakes nodded. “So he just, what? Came through and buggered off again?” Monica’s lips pressed thin. 

“Something like that.” She rattled her keys then. “How about a cup of tea, detective? 

Jakes found himself soon sitting in another small flat, the mirror of Morse’s and yet so much nicer. The floor had cute rugs, the armchair had a throw and it smelt like coffee and jasmine in the small living space. Monica had set him down with a drink and excused herself to the bathroom. She returned a few moments later in a green skirt, a soft white blouse accompanying it, pulling on a cardigan over top. Jakes couldn’t help sneaking looks towards her legs. He had to force a blink and look back up - he was on a job, sort of. Her face though, with it’s gentle jaw and charming smile were just as distracting as her legs. God, how  _ had  _ Morse managed to bag a girl like her? 

As Monica walked around the kitchenette, fixing herself a drink, she started to tell him the abridged version of her story, how she and Morse had met and so on. She picked up a knife at one point and a fresh loaf, and offered him a round of sandwiches. Neither of them had had a moment for lunch yet. He watched her back as she prepared the food, listening as her voice melted from a tight-lipped anger to a softer sort of sadness as she reached the point in her tale that Morse vanished. Nobody, bar Thursday, had really known Morse was seeing anyone, she said. Monica had read of his arrest in the paper.

“Knew he didn’t do it, he could never. Not Morse. So I went to visit him. Talk to him.” She put the knife down and slowly piles their lunches onto plates. “Refused to see me. Nobody would tell me anything, and I couldn’t get in touch with Inspector Thursday, so... “ 

Sitting beside him on the loveseat , Monica shrugged. 

“Then a few weeks ago, I’m woken up in the middle of the night. Someone banging around in there. By the time I’d got the door unlocked he was at the bottom of the stairs.`` She pointed towards the door. “Didn’t even turn around when I…”

Letting out a sigh, Monic shook her head and nudged a plate towards Jake, who snatched up a sandwich and nodded along. 

“God,” he said, brushing crumbs from his lips. “Sounds like him. What a prick.” 

Monica was slowly picking away at her own lunch now, nodding. Jakes felt the need to save the conversation, turn it back to the more workable anger angle. He realised now he was unlikely to get any information about Morse’s whereabouts, but Monica was a woman scorned. He couldn’t stand idly by, especially not when comforting her would come with the bonus of shit-talking Morse.

“You know I waited for him to get out, well me and a mate,” he started. He and Strange hadn’t been mates, not really, but they’d both known Morse was wrongly accused and had been part of the team under Bright working to get him released. “Had already gone.” 

As they finished their food, Jakes back-pedaled and gave her a run down of what had happened, neatly skipping over the events of the night itself. Those memories had been tightly boxed back up once again. 

After filling Monica in on what the papers had missed, talk turned to where Morse might have ended up, who he could have turned to after he vanished without a trace. 

Monica leant forward, her chin resting on her hand. “I’d like to think he didn’t leave me for some other woman, because that’d mean he’d have met her whilst we were…” 

Jakes scratched his chin, thoughtful. Morse could be an arse, but surely not that much of one. Then he smirked.

“Unless he’s a -” He holds up an arm and lets his hand flop, raising an eyebrow. “Poof.”

Monica let out a sudden, surprised laugh, and Jakes cackled as he took a swig of his drink again .

“No, he can’t be,” she insists, waving a hand. “He’s far too good with-”

Jakes scrunched his face. “Not something I need to hear, love.” 

Monica just laughed again, and Jakes felt better for having made her smile, especially at Morse’s expense. He sighed, amused with himself. 

“You don’t know,’ he hummed. “You haven’t seen him with the doctor.” Monica tilted her head, interest caught. 

“Doctor?” 

“Our pathologist, DeBryn. Pair of ‘em are like a couple of old dears sometimes.” 

“Oh, yes!” She laughs. “I know Max. He’s far too good for Morse.” 

Jakes snorts, his half-swallowed mouthful of what was now beer, trickling down his chin which only made Monica laugh more, and the pair of them dissolved into almost childish giggles as she reached over with a tissue and patted him dry. Watching her careful hands dab at a spot on his collar, Jakes was struck again by the disbelief that Morse could have had such a woman, and been stupid enough to lose her. 

He wasn’t sure when he had the thought to reach a hand up and lay it over hers, pressing her palm against his collarbone, but there it was. She looked up at him through thick lashes. 

Some distant, fleeting thought of his said this was a weird turn of events - investigations turned tea, turned lunch, turned Monica’s eyes on his and his hand tracing up along her arm to curl gently behind her neck. They were kissing before either realised. 

There were a mountain of reasons not to - they had just met for one, but when had that stopped him copping off with a bird before? He was on a job, not a proper one, but this was for Thursday, and Morse in a roundabout way. How would that sound when they found him;  _ Good news Morse we found you, but I did get off with your girlfriend, hope that’s okay?  _ But Morse had run off, treated her like shit. 

Monica’s fingers twisted the fabric of his shirt, pushing past his jacket to knock it off his shoulders and that settled it. Jakes had almost reasoned it out, as he ran a hand up Monica’s chest and toyed with the buttons of her blouse. She was a free agent, single now and he was - he mentally shrugged. He was seeing a girl, Hope, but not seriously. A couple of dates didn’t really make them anything serious. 

His quick moment of self justification over, he let thought of anyone else slip away, as he began unbuttoning Monica’s shirt. Their hands worked in a messy partnership to disrobe each other, and there was a brief parting as they flung their shirts off. Hands gravitated back to each other, Jakes marvelling at the sight of her chest, the lace and frills of her underwear hiding something infinitely more tempting. 

They had twisted now, facing each other on the middle of the small sofa, and after another long kiss, Monica had him by the shoulders and pushed him down, sliding over onto his lap as he looked up at her. 

Monica leant over him, and he took advantage, running his hands up her waist, long fingers splayed across her stomach. She smiled at him, reaching down to tangle their hands together then pinning them to the arm of the chair above his head. He pushed back, and there was a playful tussle before she batted his hands away. He laughed, getting the idea. She sat back up and watched with eyes alight as he grabbed at his belt. 

“You’re forgetting something,” she said, smirking as he looked up at her confused. “You’ve got some-“

He caught on and stumbled over himself a little. Not many girls asked him for that. “No? I mean perhaps, in m’wallet.” He went to reach for his jacket, half hanging off the coffee table and she rolled her eyes. 

“You men,” she scolded, leaning an arm over the back of the sofa and pulling up her purse from the end table behind it. As she flicked through it, Jakes relaxed back into the sofa, hand sneaking under her skirt to scrape along her inner thigh. He could see the smile she was trying to hide play on her lips, and feltl her knees tighten around his legs. Her smile faltered for a second, then she dumped out the contents on Jakes’ bare chest. A lipstick rolled off onto the sofa. There were a few things in there, from money to bobby pins; but no protection.

She sunk down onto his knees, deflated. “Well shit.” 

Jakes propped himself up on his elbows, tilting his head slowly. “I mean, do we need-” 

Monica’s fingers pressed against his lips. “Yes, we do  _ detective _ . No matter how handsome and trustworthy you seem.” Jakes nodded, mouth still clamped shut by her hand. In his experience, most people weren’t too fussed either way, and he’d vote for going without rather than with - but Monica was a nurse he supposed. Wiser than him about this sort of thing. 

He flopped back down onto the sofa as she unhooked her legs from around him. There was a quiet moment of rustling, as the both righted themselves, but neither reached straight for their discarded clothes. 

Instead Jakes lay back, arm thrown across the sofa, and Monica fell against it. With her hand on his stomach she looked up at him and smiled. “Another time perhaps? Make a proper day of it maybe.” 

He grinned. “You asking me out for dinner?” 

“I’ve already made you lunch,” she said, drumming her fingers up across his chest. “You’re taking me out for dinner.” 

He laughed and she laughed again, a gorgeous sound, and they finished their drinks. 

When it came time finally for him to button himself up and make his goodbyes, she kissed his cheek and sent him off with her number in his pocket and a smile on his face. 


End file.
